


Voyeur

by plague of insomnia (chiealeman)



Series: Drabbles [8]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Bard gets off to hot demon ass, Canon Era, Don’t copy to another site, M/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism, sebard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:53:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24620380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiealeman/pseuds/plague%20of%20insomnia
Summary: Working in the Phantomhive kitchen islongandhardbut Bard finds a way to pass the time. Through astrokeof good luck, he finds a spot he can pleasure himself while watching the butt-ler work while avoiding detection. And yet, Sebastian seems to bend over quite a bit more whenever a certain voyeur is around....
Relationships: Baldroy/Sebastian Michaelis
Series: Drabbles [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1411822
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	Voyeur

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was inspired by a piece of art (a one-page comic) I commissioned from @luci-on-the-moon, which was based off one of my headcanons.

Oil and vinegar didn’t mix. The cook who wasn’t much of a cook knew that much; even the most vigorous attempts could never unite them. Together, yet never blended. Water was neutral, bland, yet necessary. Cold. Oil lubricated. It ignited. A useful tool. Hot.

Bard was casual. A Yankee. Crass. Cheap ale you could find in a pub. Quenched the thirst, but disposable. Forgotten.

The butler was everything Bard wasn’t—elegant. Refined. Posh accent crisp and sharp like a fine blade. Sebastian was champagne. The fancy bubbly stuff he poured out for the master’s parties but that the cook had never tasted.

Normally, Bard was content remaining in his below-stairs world. Following orders, mingling with the common folk who cared more about who’d pay for the next round than manners.

And yet that butler—

 _Well_.

And Bard was _thirsty_ . _Parched_. Couldn’t blame a man for craving something a bit above his station. That long-limbed superman, with a smile that could make grown men tremble. Thin, delicate. Deceptive. Looked like a breeze’d break him in two. But Sebastian was strong. More powerful than Finny. Faster than Mey-Rin. Better at hand-to-hand than Tanaka. Didn’t even need a gun, like Bard.

He was used to easy conquests. The whore in the village he visited on his days off, with her generous bosom and large hips, plump ass soft beneath his palms as he fucked her from behind.

Or the younger private in his corps back in the States. Battling hostile Natives because those were _orders_ , and killing was all Bard had ever been good at. Quiet nights in their shared tent, Bard’s cock buried deep inside the smaller man. Large, rough palm over the kid’s mouth to keep their coupling quiet. Muted grunts joining the night’s echo of crickets chirping in the darkness. Neither soldier could afford a discharge and prison—if they were lucky. Noose, if they weren’t.

But that was then. Now, Bard had to mask his own sounds as he sheltered in the space between the dry pantry and the broom cupboard, cock heavy in his hand as he watched. This rare quiet of the early morning, when Finny was out tending to the garden and Mey Rin was upstairs dusting, and Tanaka sequestered in his room.

When the cook and the butler were alone.

Black wool strained over a full ass as Sebastian bent over the island, his sleeves rolled up, exposing firm forearms. The rock of his body as he rolled out the pastry.

Bard measured his breathing; he could imagine the feel of that tall form beneath his as they moved together, Sebastian all alabaster skin, with hair like black powder. Would he like the cook to shove him against the cool marble counter, pinning his wrists while he pounded into him?

Sebastian seemed so cold, serious. Rarely laughed or spoke of anything other than his duty to master and manor. And yet sometimes, when they were working together in the quiet kitchen, the butler’s gaze would meet Bard’s, red eyes seeming to glow with desire. Gone so fast only the hard cock in his trousers reminded the cook he hadn’t imagined the whole thing.

Bard chewed his lip as he thrust into his fist, swallowing a grunt. 

Sebastian began to knead the dough forcefully. The movement of his hips, ass tensing, shoulders outlined by the fitted fabric of his white shirt so fucking sensusal Bard could barely contain his moan, the faintest hint of it slipping through with his ragged breathing.

Maybe the butler would like if Bard took a fistful of that inky hair and tugged them closer, biting at the junction of his neck. Sure to leave a mark, a secret they’d share. Barely hidden by the prim uniform Sebastian was so proud of as he went about his business pouring tea and greeting guests.

Faster now, jerking into his palm as the fingers trailed over the head of his cock with each pass, giving it a squeeze on the way back down, and a sigh escaped he couldn’t catch.

Perhaps the unexpected sound distracted him, because Sebastian dropped his tea towel he’d been using to wipe his hands. He bent sharply to retrieve it, ass now outlined so perfectly by his pants Bard could imagine what he must look like beneath it. Firm and muscled and long legged. Pressing back against him as they moved together toward their end, the other man’s heavy cock pinned against the counter, Bard’s hand on his neck.

Would Sebastian be a quiet lover? Would he whimper, like the private back home? Or would he moan obscenely like the whore in town? Or perhaps he’d cry for more, cursing in that crisp, proper accent that would slice through Bard and undo him in an instant?

Or maybe he would be as demanding a fuck as he was a boss, directing Bard’s every move, every touch, ass clenching around the cook’s cock with rhythmic precision.

Before he rose again, Sebastian glanced toward Bard as if he could see him—although he was certain his hiding place was secure—and smirked. “Must be positively _famished_ ,” the butler said. The words were undoubtedly meant for the young master, though that heated garnet gaze and the subtlest darting of a tongue amidst sharp teeth made them feel like they belonged to Bard.

 _Starving_ , he thought. Years since he’d had a man beneath him, all firm muscle and angles, alluring in a completely different way than the softer curves of a girl.

Sebastian resumed his work, graceful and poised, and Bard would give anything to crack that perfect facade. To watch that butler squirm and moan and scream his name as he painted his stomach the same color as the kitchen tiles.

The image was enough for Bard to peak, and he grunted as he coated his hand with his release, cock sliding through his fingers slowly. A few final passes to draw out the pleasure.

Someday, perhaps, he would grab the butler by his tie and pull him into a searing kiss. A mess of teeth and tongue, Sebastian’s sharp canines nipping at Bard’s lip, drawing blood as they frantically thrust against one another.

Bard’s spent cock twitched at the thought.

 _Someday_.

But for now, he’d wait. . . .

And _watch_.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hey there fellow Sebard sluts!!!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did!
> 
> Please let me know what _stroked_ your fancy most!!
> 
> I thrive on comments and asks!
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr any time @plague-of-insomnia ~ and be sure to visit @luci-on-the-moon to check out more of her art or hit up her ko-fi to commission her!
> 
> Also, if you haven’t yet read Where Demons Hide yet, bc Sebaciel isn’t your thing, there’s plenty of chemistry between Bard and Sebastian there you might enjoy! We always love seeing new readers!


End file.
